


there's a beat i can't deny

by evanescent



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, so much shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent/pseuds/evanescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tsukishima finds himself in a position to look for a new flat, everything turns out exactly not as expected. (Or, in which one Tsukishima continues to have character problems, but Kuroo is the greatest asshole around here, so hey, what can you do.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a beat i can't deny

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe it's that long i'm sorry

“You’re gonna be fine, right, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima let out a sigh and pushed up his glasses. “Of course. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

This made Yamaguchi laugh softly as they were waiting for the aircraft clearance, sitting in remotely comfortable chairs. Tsukishima approved of the fact his friend managed to pack in two suitcases and a convenient handbag. Coming to think about how long his departure for student exchange was supposed to last, it was pretty impressive and only reasonable.

“Eight months is a long time,” Yamaguchi said after a moment, playing with a zip of his jacket absent-mindedly. For which time during the past two months he said that, Tsukishima wasn’t sure. “In San Francisco, to add up to it.”

“Are you still hesitating?” Tsukishima frowned as the man sitting a few seats from his right yelled something into his phone. “It’s a little too late now, you know.”

Yamaguchi shook his head and smiled sheepishly. “No, I’m just a little nervous. But looking forward to it as well.”

Tsukishima knew how hard his friend worked in his first year of studying computer engineering; that’s why Yamaguchi was offered a possibility to spend pretty much the rest of this year in America. Speaking simply, he deserved it and it would be a waste not to use such an opportunity.

“Have you been looking for a new flat yet?” Yamaguchi asked him, making sure he had his ticket and boarding card in the pocket.

“Not really,” he replied, frowning. It was a bother and he didn’t feel like going through the pain of finding some decent roommates. It was inevitable, sooner or later, but not just yet.

Yamaguchi nodded, like he had expected this answer. “You know, I asked Yachi-san and she said she will have a look on something suitable for you,” he confessed with honesty and shrewdness that made Tsukishima annoyed and grateful at the same time.

He reminded around until Yamaguchi’s parents arrived to see off their only child, for quite a long time. Tsukishima needed to get back at university since his classes were starting soon, so he wished his friend the best of luck and gave a surprised huff when Yamaguchi hugged him (Tsukishima realized hands were really of no use during hugs, so he awkwardly patted him on the back) and asked to take care. He only nodded in reply and after exchanging a few words with Yamaguchi’s parents -- he has known them for years and they offered him nothing but kindness, much to his mental discomfort -- he made his way to the exit.

His thoughts lingered for a longer moment on the fact that Yamaguchi seemed more worried about him staying here in Tokyo than about leaving his homeland. If someone was to ask Tsukishima around a year ago if his friend was be able to make it completely on his own in a foreign country, his answer would be negative. Now, however, he didn’t have such doubts. Yamaguchi had grown up, learned to achieve things by his means and it helped him to gain some confidence; only Tsukishima still reminded like he has always been, left behind on his own wish.

He received a text from Yachi when he was in the subway, on his way to the university. She was asking if he was willing to join her at lunch later this day, claiming she had found a few offers that could interest him. Tsukishima refrained himself from sighing and texted back, saying he agrees.

Well, this was going to be pain in the ass, anyway. He was reluctant to admit it, but he really could use some help.

…

Tsukishima was halfway through his sandwich when Yachi took the seat across the table, basically slumping down into the chair.

“Sorry I’m late, Tsukishima-kun,” she panted, putting her bag on the floor and offering him an apologetic smile. “My class ended up later than usually, so I made a quick run here.”

“There was no need for you to do so, Hitoka-san,” he responded, stopping himself from twitching his lips at the effort the girl had made, not to mention, for his sake. “It’s not a very pressing matter.”

“I see, but Yamaguchi-kun mentioned you are supposed to move out from your old flat till the end of the month, right?” When he nodded, she noticed, “That leaves only two weeks.”

In Tsukishima’s opinion two weeks was enough time to find a new place to live, but he might had been mistaken, judging from how Yachi pulled off her serious mode about it. Or she was just giving it her all, as usual. Tsukishima understood quite well why her and Yamaguchi were good friends.

“If I may ask… Why are you moving out, though?” she inquired, taking a sip of her apple juice. “You could just look around for a new roommate in place of Yamaguchi-kun for the time being.”

He finished the sandwich, briefly wondering if he could still get a strawberry shortcake. It would definitely put much needed sugar into his body. “That would be troublesome,” he answered simply. “Besides, we wanted to move out from that flat anyway, our landlord is a pretty annoying guy. I just need to anchor myself somewhere for these next months, until Yamaguchi comes back.” He was fairly certain that they will rent a flat together again, unless his (only) friend would decide he really can do better than unsupportive Tsukishima.

He could, of course, find something small and try to live on his own, but this idea fell as soon as it came up. His mother was already burdened by having her two sons sent to study in Tokyo, far from home. Therefore, he needed something rather cheap, so he would be able to pay it partly from his scholarship.

In response to this, Yachi only hummed thoughtfully. She reached out to the bag and pulled out a notebook, turning pages full of neat, well-written kanjis to the notes of offers she had made.

“Well, there is this flat not far from the university, it’s quite huge and the rent is reasonable…” she started, glancing at him. “But uh, I don’t know if you would like it, they are looking for a fifth flatmate I think?”

He shook his head. Too many people living in one place, no matter how big it could be, would bring nothing but trouble. He tried not to be too picky, but as it turned out, there was very little of acceptable offers. A lot of them were too expensive, especially taking how far from the centre they were. One that caught his eye turned out to be already taken when he called that person.

“Well, you’re surely hard to please, Tsukishima-kun,” Yachi huffed out, placing a streak of her hair behind the ear. He actually expected her to feel down about it, but, to his surprise, she smiled. “But I have my last resort, don’t worry. I’m not sure if it’s still up, but we will see.”

She apparently texted somebody and went to get herself pancakes while waiting for the answer. Tsukishima glanced at his watch; his classes were starting again in fifteen minutes. Looking for a flat was a really time-consuming and bothering thing. But Yachi’s phone called just after a moment and she picked it up, greeting, “Hello, Hinata-kun!”

Tsukishima felt his mouth twitch. The last person he wanted any kind of help from was that hot-headed idiot Hinata; he didn’t even know him that well -- he was Yachi’s friend, and she was Yamaguchi’s friend, and so this acquaintance was somewhat formed, much to Tsukishima’s annoyance. But it was a mutual dislike, so there. And he could always tease him for a poor height.

He watched as the girl scribbled some things in her notes and when she ended the call, he was flooded with information. Apparently, Hinata had a friend whose friend (oh, the connections) was looking for a roommate. Apart from the said guy, there were two other students living in the apartment, all three of them attending this university. The rent was reasonable and the location seemed quite near to all useful places.

Well. Tsukishima supposed he could give it a try if he didn’t find anything better. (But he knew he won’t. He could recognize a lost cause when he saw one, or so he liked to think so.) So he took the number Yachi gave him and after laconically thanking her for the effort, he rushed to his class. Yamaguchi was still on his way to the States and Tsukishima already felt a headache yanking at his temples from the troubles his friend brought upon his head by following his dream.

…

It was just around six pm when he came back to the flat and got a chance to call that guy. Nobody picked up. Tsukishima huffed and decided to reward himself for a hard day with a strawberry cake he had hid in the fridge. Having a small but neat apartment all to himself felt strange; Yamaguchi was a good roommate -- they have known each other’s habits and such very well, so rarely any disturbances happened. Now, everything was surprisingly still and quiet, leaving Tsukishima space only for him. Not that he minded.

After some time, he tried calling again, but there was still no answer. There was a possibility that Yachi noted a wrong number, but more possible was that, whoever made the announcement, was either busy or irresponsible.

Instead of pointless waiting, he watched the news (same old; people being stupid, people desiring for things they won’t have, and so on) and completed his notes from molecular biology. Just then, Tsukishima decided to give one last try and tapped the screen to call. (It might have looked like he was desperate, but it wasn’t the case, alright.) This time, he almost ended up hanging up again, but somebody answered at the very last moment, saying, “Yes?”

“Hello. I’m calling in the matter of a flatmate,” Tsukishima stated without any playing around. He was tired and annoyed, so there.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re that friend of a friend’s friend?” the voice inquired, sounding rather dully. “Kuroo mentioned you may call.”

Tsukishima fought off a scowl that would be surely heard in his tone. “I suppose it’s me, but who is Kuroo?”

“Your roommate-to-be, if you move in,” the boy replied. “I’m Akaashi Keiji. It’s actually Kuroo’s number you dialed, but he went out without his phone.” After a moment, Akaashi added, “But I suppose it would be fine if you made a deal with me...”

“Tsukishima Kei,” he introduced himself. Reflecting on what he heard, it was more or less forgetful of that Kuroo guy, if not to use some other word. “And alright,” he agreed. “When could I come to see the flat?”

“Hm,” Akaashi hummed, “tomorrow around this time? I don’t know about Kuroo, but me and the other flatmate will be here.” Maybe Tsukishima was a bit deaf, but if it wasn’t for the weird honesty, he would think this guy was mocking him in this deadpan voice.

“Suits me.” He scribbled down the address he was given, staring at the piece of paper. Akaashi sounded plain; Kuroo seemed like a laid-back type of guy. Tsukishima decided he could eventually roll with it, maybe.

…

The next day was going fine till some point, at least. He had a square breakfast, went running for exactly twenty minutes in the near park, dropped to the library and attended his classes. The crack happened during lunch time.

The university’s canteen offered shortcakes, including a strawberry one. It wasn’t Tsukishima’s favourite place to get them from, but it was just here, no need to bother. When he reached the counter, he saw that just the last one was left, so he reached out for it and his hand collided with someone’s else. He turned his head around to glare steadily at whoever dared to try to snatch it from under his nose and for a second, he felt confused. It was rare for him not to look down at somebody but to see them eye-to-eye.

“Whoopsie,” the guy said, stretching a lazy grin across his face. Great part of the said face was hid behind black hair that was falling off as some kind of really ridiculous hairstyle. “Now, we should play rock-paper-scissors to decide who gets this one, don’t you think?”

“There is no reason to,” Tsukishima answered simply. If there was something he intended not to lose at, it was this. “I was first,” he said, still politely, putting the cake on his tray.

The black-haired boy just laughed at this and asked, “Oh, sorry, did I touch a sensitive matter? No worry, I can get something else.” He reached for a sandwich with grilled cheese and Tsukishima scowled at this. Gross. Who even rooted for a strawberry shortcake when they could do with grilled cheese as well?

But apparently, the guy wasn’t done and while paying for the sandwich, he asked casually, “Are you a freshman? Don’t recall having seen you around earlier.”

Tsukishima wasn’t the one to strike up a conversation with people, not if it wouldn’t give him a chance to tease someone or bring out something useful to him, and he wasn’t also the one to keep it up. He had a feeling the guy was a year or two older than him and it gave him a satisfying feeling that he apparently managed to keep a low profile during his first year, not getting dragged into unnecessary extra activities and such.

“I don’t recall seeing you earlier as well and I don’t think it was bad this way,” he responded with a slight smirk. This made the other quirk an eyebrow curiously, but before any reply, Tsukishima heard his name being called out.

“Tsukishima-kun!” He pursed his lips together, seeing as Yachi was making her way through the crowd and tables to him. She probably had the best of intentions, but the road to hell was paved with such. Besides, he really wanted to have lunch in peace.

For some reason, that guy started snickering and he stared at him, unamused. “Tsukishima, is that so?” the boy chuckled, apparently quite content about something. “Well, see you around then, _Tsukishima-kun_ ,” he said, waving at him with the sandwich. “May be sooner than you think.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Tsukishima muttered in reply as he watched the irritating guy being sucked in by the crowd.

…

After a really unnecessary lunch with Yachi (Tsukishima started wondering if Yamaguchi had enough of slyness in himself to ask her to keep him company from time to time because he was pretty sure the girl wasn’t doing it out of simply _wanting to_ ) and the rest of classes, he finally found himself in the subway to go to see the flat. The way from university to this neighbourhood took him around fifteen minutes with regular crowdedness. It was something worth seeing as an advantage. The apartment itself was situated in a small block, the modern kind. He found the right door and after knocking twice, it opened.

“I’m Tsukishima Kei,” he said, staring at the boy in front of him. He was a few centimeters shorter than him, having messy black hair. His expression was neutral, but he seemed tired. Tsukishima had a feeling he knew who he was, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Akaashi, we talked yesterday. Please, come in,” he stepped aside to let Tsukishima in. The small hallway was simple and the first thing he noticed was the huge amount of shoes on the mat, especially sports ones. He did not comment on it, though, and put his bag down.

“Well, I don’t know if you know, but there are two rooms here, as well as living room…” Akaashi started, pointing to the corridor, but was interrupted by an abrupt appearance of someone who Tsukishima guessed to be one of the flatmates.

“Yo, you are Tsukishima, right? Our future pal? Nice to meet ya!” The guy with white hair and some grayish streaks in it rushed forward to grab Tsukishima’s hand and shake it so enthusiastically that the latter felt like it was going to drop down. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, hey!”

“Tsukishima-kun came just to watch the flat as for now,” Akaashi reminded the other boy, his voice still stoic.

“Well, if you keep up that deadpan face and give him a boring tour around here, he surely won’t move in!” Bokuto crossed his arms with something like a pout on his face.

Tsukishima was actually more than fine with a normal viewing the flat, really, but Akaashi just shrugged his shoulders. “Please, be my guest,” he said. “I will make coffee,” he offered and Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t it a little too late for coffee?

“Yoho!” Bokuto followed his flatmate and so the tour started from the kitchen. Tsukishima found himself kind of dragged all around the place -- kitchen, toilet, bathroom, living room, even Bokuto and Akaashi’s room, who knows what for, and eventually, his shared room. The white-haired boy stated that Kuroo apparently did some cleaning earlier this morning; Tsukishima looked critically at rather messy Kuroo’s part of the room, but the other side was neat and fine. The mattress was a bit too thick, but would do; there was also a simple desk and a chest of drawers.

“Kuroo’s friend, the guy who lived with us earlier, was pretty simple, so he didn’t need lots of stuff,” Bokuto explained, gesturing around. “Though he had this really cool Playstation, it was so much fun to play. Such a pity he took it when he moved out,” he added with a sigh. “Don’t you happen to be a gamer or something?” he asked Tsukishima, his face somewhat hopeful.

“I am not,” he responded, cutting off any hopes. Akaashi joined them in the living room soon shortly after the tour ended.

“So, what do you think?” he inquired, still drinking his coffee, or maybe it was a new cup, Tsukishima wasn’t sure.

He thought about an answer for a moment, choosing to be terse. “It is suitable, also the rent is fair and it is not far from the university, so these are advantages.”

The blackhead nodded and spoke, “Right, we attend the same university. What are you studying?”

When he said "biotechnology", Bokuto threw his hands up. “Woah, that’s some weird smart stuff. Just like Kuroo.”

“Engineering isn’t that weird,” Akaashi disagreed. He looked over to Tsukishima. “You seem like a reasonable person, but since you would share a room with Kuroo, we need his approval, if you are interested, that is.”

“Yeah, where is he, anyway? He said he will make it on time,” Bokuto grunted. “He is kinda weird, sometimes gives this creepy feeling, but he is cool, and competitive,” he added, giving Tsukishima surely a well-painted outlook at his possible future roommate.

“Though he sometimes is picky,” Akaashi stated. Tsukishima heard something resembling a grudge. “I can’t say how many people he has turned down since Kozume moved out. And the bills don’t pay themselves just by three people…”

Then, they heard as the door slammed right open and a bit muffled voice called out, “Hey, sorry for being late!”

“We’re in the living room!” Bokuto shouted back, making Tsukishima narrow his eyes. This energetic guy would be hard to take if they lived together. But after a moment, when the so-called Kuroo entered the room, Tsukishima didn’t even try to minimize his scowl.

“Hey, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” the guy from the incident with the strawberry cake greeted him with the sliest grin Tsukishima has seen in a while. “Told you we would see each other sooner than later, Tsukishima-kun.”

“Oh, you guys know each other?” Bokuto titled his head, looking between them and Tsukishima swore he looked like a fucking owl. What even.

Kuroo shrugged his shoulders, still grinning. “Can be said so,” he replied at the same time as the other said, “ _Know_ is too affirmative word.”

Hearing that, Akaashi quirked an eyebrow what was probably the most lively expression Tsukishima saw him made this evening, not counting his relaxed face while drinking the coffee. “So you would be alright with him moving in?” he asked his friend, something like a hopeful tone showing up.

“Yeah, why not.” Kuroo stuffed his hands into the pockets of a sweatshirt. “It could be fun.”

Tsukishima had rather a different opinion on this matter, but Kuroo waved at them and went to his room. He figured out it was time for him to get going as well and obligated to call with the decision within this week.

He strongly suspected it would be a negative one.

…

But, as it turned out, things weren’t in his favor.

He went looking for some offers on his own, but either Yachi had some upper-hand contacts or she was just better at this kind of thing; he didn’t accomplish anything. And he even went that far as to call his brother.

“Hey, Kei, it’s rare of you to call,” Akiteru said when he picked up, sounding between amused and worried. It was almost like they didn’t live in the same city, sometimes. “What’s up?”

When he laid out his problem, he wasn’t offered particularly a lot of help. “Aw, so you thought about moving in with you brother? That’s so cute of you, Kei.”

“Tch, don’t joke around, you know it’s not the case,” he replied. “I was just wondering if you knew somebody looking for a flatmate.”

“Don’t get so dense about it, I get it,” Akiteru reassured him. “And even if, we don’t have a vaccat. I can ask, but don’t really get any high hopes for it.”

He just sighed, annoyed. “Alright, I understand.” He was to end the call, but suddenly his brother spoke again.

“But you know, it may be a good opportunity to take that other offer, especially since Tadashi is at the other half of the world. You need some friends, Kei.”

“That’s the second most ridiculous thing I have heard this week,” he snapped in reply, still hearing Akiteru’s laugh after hanging up.

…

When Yamaguchi texted him the other day, Tsukishima frowned for a longer moment before responding.

_Hey, Tsukki! How is your looking for a new flat going? Did you find something?_

Eventually, he sighed, and typed, _It seems so_.

When he called Akaashi to confirm, he hoped he won’t regret it too much. It was just a few months, anyway. He had endured more troublesome things, after all.

…

During the first two weeks, Tsukishima found out a lot. Some of these were things he didn’t really need to know.

Firstly, all three of his flatmates were playing in their university’s volleyball team and Kuroo was the captain. This would explain many cases, like all the gym shoes and them spending a lot of time out, but really, _out of all sports_ , he had to move in with volleyball players. (When he confronted Yachi about it, she answered frantically that she _might have known about it, maybe_.)

Somewhat, as a result of this, they were quite popular; Tsukishima was surprised that he managed to tune out himself so effectively during his first year that he hadn’t heard about them. Now, his ears were catching all kinds of gossips and stories; and he was able to confirm or deny many of them.

Apparently, Akaashi had an opinion of somebody who didn’t function well without coffee. It was very accurate description. Most of the time, he looked sleep-deprived, but after a cup of his favourite black drink with one cube of sugar this expression changed to simple "tired".

Bokuto, on the other hand, was said to be always cheerful. It wasn’t exactly right; Tsukishima noticed him having mood swings constantly, going from feeling down through being quiet to this irritating liveness he was usually showing. Very often all of them during one hour.

As reluctant he was to admit, Kuroo was the most interesting case.

Many people wondered how much time he put into doing his hair every day. Tsukishima was bewildered to see by himself that it was none; what he thought was a strange hairstyle, appeared to be always-untamed bedhair.

(It was the third morning since he moved in; he was sitting in the kitchen, eating his toast in peace when he heard a bit clumsy footsteps and sleepy, but not sluggish, “Morning”. When he glanced at Kuroo, the first thing that left Tsukishima’s mouth was a gasp followed by, “What the hell is with your hair”, in response to what he got a bit confused look, shrugging of shoulders and simple, “Huh? It’s always like this”.

 _Honestly_.)

Apparently, some were curious to know if he had a girlfriend -- or a boyfriend, for that matter. Tsukishima counted it as one of the things he didn’t need to know -- let alone too much personal information, if it wasn’t of any use -- but that was a fact.

What kind of bothered him was the fact that it was hard to find Kuroo’s weak spot.

Tsukishima liked to have at least one touchy matter to rile people up with, whether it was just for fun, like teasing Hinata about his height or reminding a friend of his, Kageyama, about rather unpleasant nickname coming from school years, or it was something that could be potentially used as an attack. It was nice to see people lose their cool and react just as expected; human errors, simple as it was.

But matched up with Kuroo, Tsukishima often felt like _he_ was the one being figured out, the one being cut by sharp, observant glaces. It wasn’t pleasant, to say the least.

The other day, while he was studying and Kuroo seemed to be pointlessly shuffling songs on his iPad, laying on the bed, Tsukishima suddenly heard, “Aha! I finally remembered.”

He decided to ignore it, but then Kuroo asked him a question. “You have a brother?”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes behind the glasses. “I might have,” he answered, cautious.

“Hm, it makes sense, I knew I heard about some Tsukishima before.” Kuroo put his hands under his head. “He plays volleyball at Gakudai, doesn’t he?” Apparently, taking the silence for a confirmation, he casually dropped another thing, “So I’m pretty sure you used to play as well.”

Tsukishima’s pen did a really unelegant crack against the paper, but he replied on ease, “Oh, it was long ago, old times.”

“Liar,” Kuroo accused and Tsukishima caught in his voice that annoying grin. “I’m betting 300 yen that you were still playing during high school.”

“Are you really that wealthy that you can go around and make bets for money?” he teased, purposefully avoiding the answer. “Rare case.”

He heard as Kuroo got up from his bed, ready to leave the room. “You should come to the practice sometime,” he suggested, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You can’t possibly suck _that_ bad.”

Just as the door closed, Tsukishima let his lips curve into an annoyed grimace. “What an asshole,” he said quietly to himself.

…

To think of it, the fact that just around that time he found out that Akaashi and Bokuto were in a relationship was strange, considering they could be horribly affectionate.

He just came back from classes one afternoon to see them making out on the couch in the living room. Well, talk about keeping things private. He wanted to kind of ignore them and go straight to his room, but when the two peeled off from each other -- there was no other way to put it -- greeting him like nothing happened, Bokuto said, “Yo, if you wanna watch TV or something, that’s fine, we don’t mind.”

Tsukishima started at them, adjusted his glasses and just left the other room. He couldn’t believe it.

“Oh, yeah, they are together,” Kuroo told him later that evening, getting ready to leave for some evening running. “They don’t really show off with it, though…”

“Well, I wouldn’t say,” he protested, still a bit disturbed. Public affections were really not his thing.

Kuroo glanced at him. “You don’t have a problem with them being a couple, do you?”

He felt his mouth twitch. “I have problem with people making out in a living room when they have got a room of their own,” Tsukishima responded simply.

“Hm, it seems you need a girlfriend, Tsukishima,” his roommate said with a smug grin, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“And you need to go away,” Tsukishima countered, shaking it off. He put on his headphones, making it a sign to end this conversation.

Still, he heard traces of Kuroo’s laugh and also, _So, maybe a boyfriend then?_

They were all horrible.

…

For some reasons, though, he found himself attending one of their matches. Along with Yachi, who kept asking questions and gasping in all right moments, much to his annoyance.

They were playing against one of Tokyo’s private colleges, the one that used to be really good a few years back. But now, it seemed to be a rather easy match for their university. From what he heard them talking, he knew that Akaashi played as a setter, Bokuto was a wing spiker and Kuroo had a position of a middle blocker. The last fact made Tsukishima wonder a little and as he watched Kuroo play, he couldn’t help but look back to his high school days. He was told to have a certain talent, in blocking especially, and that with enough hard work, the results would surely come.

(It was a bullshit, of course.)

They won easily in two sets.

(The next morning, while drinking his regular coffee and wearing the usual expression, Akaashi startled Tsukishima by saying, “I know you went to see our match yesterday. But I won’t tell Kuroo. You will come to the practice when you want to.”

Tsukishima seriously started to question whether these three had been looking for a flatmate or a new member of the team.)

…

The one person that could understand his frustration, since they took a pretty big part in the current situation, was on the other hemisphere.

“So, how are you living with your new flatmates?” Yamaguchi asked him with a smile. It was rare for them to get in sync to skype, taking time difference and their activities. But during those seldom times, Tsukishima felt like he had a right to vent a little.

“They are terrible,” he grunted. He kept his voice low since they were somewhere in the apartment. “I don’t know if they are doing it on purpose, but I keep walking onto these two guys making out everywhere. They don’t even get embarrassed about it.” He strongly suspected Bokuto and Akaashi had no shame, and while it wasn’t surprising to say it about the first one, Tsukishima thought that the setter had some decency. But apparently, not.

Yamaguchi muttered something about American people being even more open about things, but Tsukishima was not done. “The fridge is filled with sport drinks and meat, though none of them is really that good at cooking.” Well, alright, Bokuto made dinner from time to time and it was actually tasty, but Yamaguchi didn’t need to know that, just like Tsukishima didn’t need to eat it. Except from the times he was really hungry. “And my roommate is the absolute worst. He seems to remain unbothered by anything I say. It feels like I could insult him and he would just laugh it off and land on his feet like some damn cat.”

He knew he might have been blabbering a little, but he needed to say some of these things. Yamaguchi scratched the back of his head sheepishly and he once again noticed that his friend had caught some sun in California. It looked good on him. “Well, aren’t you exaggerating a little, Tsukki?”

And then, before he could bite himself in the tongue, the following statement left his mouth. “They are trying to get me to play volleyball again.”

As predicted, Yamaguchi’s face lit up with a smile. “Oh, that’s really good! You should give this a chance.”

“No way,” he said solemnly, just as the door swung open.

“Whoopsie, sorry for disturbance” Kuroo said, not sounding too sorry at all. “I will just get something and go away.”

“What is it, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi inquired, shifting on his bed and unfortunately, getting Kuroo’s attention. He walked over to the desk and dropped his arm around Tsukishima’s shoulder.

“Hey, you gotta be that Tsukishima’s friend,” he greeted with a nice smile. It looked... strangely on his face, in Tsukishima’s opinion. “Don’t worry, we’re taking good care of him,” he assured sweetly.

“Tch.” Tsukishima threw Kuroo’s arm off him and watched warily as his roommate left the place, chuckling to himself.

Yamaguchi looked confused. “He doesn’t seem that bad,” he stated carefully.

“You have no idea,” Tsukishima answered with a sigh.

(After that incident, Kuroo started to call him Tsukki, what Bokuto quickly picked up. Akaashi’s attitude remained unchanged.)

…

A month passed and he ended up going with them to some kind of volleyball practice. He blamed it entirely on Bokuto and a stupid bet he had been tricked into just to lose. So that was how he, Kuroo, Akaashi and Bokuto went to one of the city’s courts. He was surprised they didn’t go to the university’s gym, but the matter cleared up as soon enough as he saw Hinata.

“Eh? Tsukishima?” The short boy stared at him, bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Hinata,” he greeted with a polite smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Have you gotten shorter?”

As expected, this made him scowl as be balanced on his feet. “Hey, I actually grew a few millimetres!” he called out, offended.

“You guys know each other? Isn’t it great?” Bokuto patted them both on the back and Tsukishima twitched at this unexpected contact while Hinata almost fell to the ground, still wearing his idiotic smile. Then, Tsukishima was cornered from the other side by Kuroo, who had got this annoying habit of dropping his arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders.

“You are kind of an asshole,” his roommate told him. “I like it.”

“Well, looking at who that is coming from, it must be a fact,” Tsukishima stated, raising an eyebrow. Kuroo laughed and looked over to Hinata.

“Hey, shorty, we are gonna give you a hard time scoring tonight,” he promised.

That made Hinata jump in a moment. “Yeah, you can try! We will see!”

“That’s the spirit!” Bokuto grinned enthusiastically. “Where is Lev, by the way?”

“He went to buy something to drink, should be back soon.” 

As everyone started stretching and chatting, Tsukishima asked if he was a substitute for someone. Akaashi confirmed his guesses.

“Usually, the guy named Kageyama plays with us, but Hinata said he caught a cold, so we were short of a player.”

Tsukishima briefly wondered how badly the King had to be pissed that he had to sit out at home and miss a chance to play. This thought was somewhat reassuring.

“You used to play as a middle blocker, didn’t you?” Kuroo asked him as they watched Lev, a guy from Hinata’s university’s team, running into a court and greeting everyone. Tsukishima didn’t see a reason to deny, so he nodded his head. “Nice,” the other said with a grin and pointed at Lev. “With this guy, we have a pretty high block to put. Let’s see what comes out of this.”

Next hour was strange for Tsukishima. He forgot how exhausting volleyball was, especially if played with skilled people. He had some idea of Hinata’s jumping power, but apparently, he had started to think while playing, and he had a nice teamwork with Bokuto and Akaashi. They must had done this kind of three versus three matches a lot; for what reason, Tsukishima had no idea. From their side of the net, Lev kept doing spikes and some really crazy attacks that lacked of technique, but the power made up for it.

After all, he found himself curious about Kuroo’s high blocking efficiency. He managed to stop many of Bokuto and Hinata’s balls, much to their discontent.

“Much about it is tied to timing,” he told Tsukishima later, when the match was over. His hair was damp with sweat, but he seemed pleased. Tsukishima looked over to the other four and failed not to notice as Akaashi was talking to Lev and Hinata, with Bokuto resting his chin on the setter’s shoulder. “But these are things that could be learnt, if you want to.”

Tsukishima just glanced at him from behind his glasses, not responding. His hands and forearms were red and sore as they hadn’t been since high school. 

…

A few days later Tsukishima’s afternoon classes ended earlier than usually, so he saw it as a good opportunity to go to his favourite confectionery to get a strawberry shortcake. While he was sitting in one of comfortable seats next to the window for quite some time, enjoying his shortcake in peace, someone entered his field of vision.

“Wow, you really like that strawberry cake, don’t you?”

Tsukishima swallowed that bite and slightly frowned at his roommate, half-sitting, half-lying in a seat across him. “I don’t know why, but sometimes it really feels like you stalk people, Kuroo-san,” he said, almost accusing of sort.

“Well, not only you like this certain place, Glasses-kun,” Kuroo answered, picking up a formal tone, more or less. “And I haven’t had anything since breakfast, so there.”

After ordering a cheesecake -- what was that with this guy and cheese in any kind, honestly -- Kuroo laid a chin on his palm, putting an elbow on the table, and asked, “What are you doing on Wednesday two weeks from now?”

Tsukishima fought off a scowl. “I am not going with you to another volleyball match, that’s for sure” he declared solemnly. He could do without it just fine.

“Well, I wasn’t going to ask you about it, but the fact it was your first thought is pretty telling, don’t you think?” the other stated with a lazy smirk. Tsukishima didn’t think of himself as a violent person, but sometimes Kuroo’s face seemed very hittable.

“What is it about then?” he asked, sighing quietly.

“Volleyball, of course,” Kuroo explained innocently.

 _This guy, honestly_.

“We are holding an open practice then,” he continued to talk, eating his cheesecake in between, “so I figured out you could drop by.”

“Everyone can come?” When Kuroo nodded, Tsukishima quirked an eyebrow. “Even your potential opponents?”

“If they ask nicely.”

After a moment of silence, Tsukishima decided to ask about something that had been bothering him for a while now. “Why do you keep bragging about volleyball to me?” He adjusted his headphones. “I have never said I like it in the first place.”

It was Kuroo’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “So why did you play in high school?”

“Because I had suitable height and some club activity to pick up,” he responded, not lying, but it was somewhat far from the truth.

Kuroo seemed to think about something for a longer moment, before going for a reply. “Then, are you saying it is _impossible_ for you to like volleyball?”

“Tch.” Tsukishima felt his mouth curve into a scowl. It was one thing for him to think so, but completely different for someone to say it to him like that. 

The captain laughed at that. “So, come to this practice, won’t you?”

Instead of replying, Tsukishima took a sip of his tea. “If I may ask, why your previous roommate moved out?” he inquired.

The change of topic surprised Kuroo. “Kenma? Ah, well, he wanted to move in with Shorty-kun,” he explained, apparently meaning Hinata, “because they are dating.”

Tsukishima didn’t really care for the private lives of others, but he made a mental note to bring it up by the next occasion. “Is that so,” he muttered into the cup. “And I thought it was because you’re pain in the ass, Kuroo-san.”

“Hey, what can you do,” Kuroo shrugged his shoulders, not looking offended at all. “It feels right to embrace the asshole in yourself, don’t you agree?”

Well, he did, but Kuroo didn’t know to hear that.

…

It was Friday evening when Tsukishima sneaked out of his room to the kitchen for a snack just to walk into the very beginning of, well, cards and drinking.

“Just in time, Tsukki,” Bokuto called out, grinning. He pointed at the seat on the other side of the table. “Come on, sit down, we have beer and poker, what else would you want?”

Tsukishima pushed up his glasses, staring at the bottles at the table for a moment too long.

“Oi, caught your eye, I see?” Kuroo leaned back in his chair. “There is not much to lose, we are not that brash to play betting money…”

(“We could bankrupt,” Akaashi noticed thoughtfully. “Well, Bokuto for sure. His pokerface sucks.”

“Hey, don’t sell me out just yet,” he protested.

“There are no friends or boyfriends when playing cards,” the setter stated.)

“...so we agreed that the loser is gonna go shopping in the morning and make breakfast for everybody.” Kuroo crossed his arms. “See, nothing sinister at all.”

“And what is there for a winner?” he inquired.

“Uh, the bottles of beer that will be left, I suppose?” Kuroo scratched the back of his head, looking at the others. “If he is still able to drink them, that is.”

In answer to this, Tsukishima let himself to smirk slightly. “Well, if that’s the case, I shouldn’t say no,” he agreed, sitting down in the chair. The opened bottle was handed in to him right away.

“Alright, everybody treat yourself before we start,” Bokuto commanded, “and may the most capable win!” Such toast made Tsukishima snort into his bottle as he took first sip, and so the game started.

Tsukishima decided he could humour his flatmates with this for two reasons. He was fairly aware of his tolerance for alcohol and the eventual hangover the next day; it was bearable enough to take a risk. Secondly, he had spent quite a lot of time playing with his brother back in days and there were many things he had learnt then.

The first round was Bokuto’s loss, not that anyone was surprised. He drank quite a part of his bottle, causing the chuckles. Kuroo said, “Hey, just three losses to come and you will have to obediently go for breakfast for us in the morning.

“Nothing is decided yet,” he grunted as the new cards were given.

It actually took four rounds for Bokuto to fall out of play, as Kuroo lost one of them, making Tsukishima raise an eyebrow. He strongly suspected it was a bluff, but who could know for sure with that guy.

Bokuto, who was already pretty drunk (by his own doing, though), moved his chair to sit behind Akaashi, peeking at his cards and giving some advices, rather shitty ones, until he wasn’t silenced with a kiss. Tsukishima wondered if alcohol was slowly starting to get into his head because he found it kind of cute, in a drunk way, of course.

The remaining three of them played for a little longer; though Akaashi had his own strategy -- being stoic as usual, whether he had bad or good cards -- he was the second one to go, and by that time, he already got hiccups from his two beers. It made Tsukishima giggle, but he was decent enough to cover his mouth with hand, while Kuroo was just bluntly laughing out loud.

“Every fucking time,” he managed to notice when he stopped to catch a breath, as Akaashi’s shoulders kept rocking up and down.

“Shut - _hicc!_ \- up,” Akaashi responded grudgingly, “Kuroo - _hicc!_ \- san.”

Bokuto was still thoughtful enough to get him a glass of water and in the meantime, Kuroo regained his composure and glanced at Tsukishima.

“So, it’s the two of us now,” he said. “I wonder how it will turn out.”

“Quite interesting, I suppose.”

Kuroo was probably the worst match-up, as this shit-eating grin didn’t fade away from his face even for a moment and if the beer made him less focused, he didn’t let it show. Himself, Tsukishima decided to play along with it and despite the casual atmosphere, neither of them let their guard drop.

“Ah, guys, come on, the tension is killing me,” Bokuto groaned a bit sleepily, but still on track. Akaashi, on the other hand, seemed to take a nap after getting ride of the hiccups but _no, he didn’t want any more beer_ , as he batted the offered bottle away. “You should have played a strip poker instead.”

This got Kuroo to snort. “Would be more than fine by me, but I think Tsukki wouldn’t be so eager.”

Tsukishima finished his bottle, blaming the flush in his cheeks on alcohol entirely. “It’s not my fault you don’t have any decency left,” he pointed out.

“Aw, that’s what you think of us?” Kuroo put a hand on his chest. “It’s like we are depraving you! Horrible.”

“He is actually kinda right, you know,” Akaashi agreed, opening his eyes. “About you for sure.” Kuroo actually seemed affronted by this remark and Tsukishima chuckled. The setter got up and headed out of the kitchen after saying, “Though more than interested in witnessing this game’s end, I’m in going to sleep. So goodnight.”

Bokuto tried to put up a more fair fight, but after another win for win, he also gave up. “Please finish this soon, you make poker look like it’s only brains and strategy and no fun at all,” he asked, yawning.

“You’re gonna have a hell of hangover tomorrow, you know that, right?” Kuroo called out and laughed when Bokuto showed him a middle finger. “I do love to rifle him up when he is sulking,” he admitted when the door to the other room was closed.

Tsukishima picked up the shuffled cards. “Isn’t it always the case?” 

“Okay, frankly speaking.” Kuroo straightened out in his chair. “But he had a point, it’s time to end this one.”

Starting at his cards, Tsukishima saw a way to make an end to this indeed. He exchanged two of his cards while Kuroo did the same. It took them another moment, and then he said, “Alright, showdown.”

Tsukishima was quite pleased to announce, “Full house,” showing three queens and two nines.

Kuroo huffed. “Nicely done,” he praised and laid down his cards, “but sorry. Straight flush.” It was one indeed, from six to ten clubs.

This came a little unexpectedly, to be honest. “Such a classic bad beat,” he muttered to himself, remembering _Casino Royale_ he had watched with Yamaguchi the other time.

“Does it make me a James Bond?” Kuroo wondered out loud and Tsukishima snorted. He took his glasses off to clear them with a hem of his shirt, for a lack of better tissue.

“Well, it was a… fine game.” Tsukishima almost said _nice_ , but stopped himself in time. Otherwise, Kuroo wouldn’t let him to hear the end of it. “But it’s really late, so…” Putting his glasses back on made some things clearer and he jerked back in his chair. “ _What the hell_.”

In the meantime, Kuroo apparently moved from his chair to sit on the edge of the table by Tsukishima’s side. He quirked an eyebrow and leaned into his direction.

“Well, I came to pick up my prize, of course,” he explained and Tsukishima stared at definitely-too-close face. Kuroo’s lips parted a little and after a moment of stillness, they turned into a grin. “Two spare bottles of my favourite beer, ho!” he laughed, reaching out to the counter next to Tsukishima’s head where the leftovers were.

Tsukishima decided it was time to move back, right now, and he threw some kind of "Goodnight" at his roommate, quickly brushed his teeth and went to bed, thinking, _Well, this was kind of a close call of my imagination, am I drunker than I thought?_

...

In the morning, it turned out Tsukishima wasn’t hangover enough not to end up going to a bakery. He was too hungry to wait for Bokuto to get out of bed, what could be not any soon, as Akaashi informed him. _It’s always like this after we get drunk and play cards_ , he explained, getting himself a bowl of cereals (probably the only edible thing they had in the apartment right now), what clearly said that he didn’t mean to get up just yet, either; otherwise, he would go for a coffee. Tsukishima turned out to be right; his flatmate complained some about the light of the morning and too cold milk just to came back to the room.

So yeah, it was up to Tsukishima to go out if he didn’t want to accidentally starve himself to death -- his headache was enough of pain, really. And as he started walking down the street, after making himself look (hopefully) decent, someone joined him at side.

“You don’t really believe we would get breakfast any soon?” Tsukishima noticed Kuroo’s hair looked even more messy than usually, if it was even possible. “You’re right.”

“Hm, and I thought you were deep in sleep,” he commented. “Aren’t you supposed to have the worst hangover from all of us? Well, maybe except for Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo snorted. “Hey, I don’t have that weak head, y’know,” he stated, but as Tsukishima noticed, his usual grin seemed to speak volumes about a nasty headache. “You always complain about my hair, but your is all over the place as well,” he added when they stopped at the lights, curling an uncombed streak of Tsukishima’s blond hair around his finger.

“You actually still seem drunk, Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima stated, raising a hand to his hair -- he combed it before going out, alright -- and his roommate only snickered, putting hands in the pockets of his jacket.

But at least after that, he didn’t talk much on the way to the bakery and back. Tsukishima decided hangovers had their advantages as well.

...

The last thing Tsukishima remembered before -- apparently -- falling asleep this late evening was that he had been reading a book and now he was abruptly woken up by an unidentified heavy object that ended up somewhere around his lap. Everything was dark -- Tsukishima didn’t remember turning off the lights, probably Akaashi or Bokuto did it for him -- and he _did_ feel like panicking for a moment, but the object spoke in a well-known voice, though a bit muffled.

“Geez, just don’t scream or anything like this.”

He reached out to a small lamp by his desk and switched it on. In the faint, artificial light Kuroo’s face seemed creepy and grey-pale. And in the rather uncomfortable position he was now, it was just around Tsukishima’s knees, so there.

“What are you doing?” he inquired, trying to sit up a little and adjusting his glasses. “It’s my bed.”

“Well, I figured out that much,” Kuroo muttered in answer. “I didn’t want to turn on the lights, so I thought I will make it to my bed. But I think I have misplaced directions and stomped onto something. And here I am.”

“Don’t say,” Tsukishima said a bit viciously.

“Sorry for waking you up, by the way.”

Tsukishima sighed. It was actually not a comfortable situation for him. _Yamaguchi has never been even half as troublesome as this guy here_. “Are you drunk?” he asked when Kuroo finally brought himself into a rather sitting than laying position. “I understand you guys had a win to celebrate, but Bokuto and Akaashi came back a while ago, not drunk at all.”

“Hey, I told you before, my head endures a lot,” his roommate protested. “If any, I may be a little tipsy, that’s all.”

“So, if we established that, can you move to your bed?”

Kuroo grinned. “Not really?”

Tsukishima opened his mouth to make a suitable comment, but before he could, Kuroo surprisingly swiftly put his hands on the bed on a level of Tsukishima’s stomach, effectively closing him in between his arms, and leaned into a kiss.

Kuroo’s lips were chapped; Tsukishima recognized a faint taste of tequila and cigarettes against his mouth (Kuroo smoked occasionally, as he assured). It didn’t last very long and when Kuroo pulled back, _even then_ , he was still wearing that annoying grin.

“For the record, I…” he started, most definitely meaning to make some snarky remark, but Tsukishima acted without thinking, based on instinct. This time, he was the one to move forward and kiss Kuroo. It turned a little more abruptly than he intended, and it was actually heated, as he felt Kuroo’s hands clinging to his shirt, pulling him even closer, and --

Well, the bed wasn’t long enough to go on forever.

Kuroo spectacularly fell off, hitting his back against the floor and it sounded like his head almost came into a close contact with one of Tsukishima’s hard-cover textbooks that he usually put on the carpet by the end of his bed. It was all very funny and Tsukishima would be probably having the laugh of his life right now if he could catch a breath, that was it.

 _Well_.

Bokuto and Akaashi stormed into the room, turning on the lights and making a lot of fuss. Kuroo somehow managed to pick himself up from the floor, rubbing his back and grudgingly explaining to them that _no, he wasn’t breaking into his own room, dammit_ and _yes, he probably deserved to bang his sorry ass against the ground finally, are you assholes fulfilled now_.

Much to Tsukishima’s relief, they dragged Kuroo out of the room to talk about something concerning the won match -- it was just after eleven pm, after all, the night was still young and all that bullshit. He put himself back and decided to go to sleep because he was in no state to deal with whatever it was that happened earlier. His last coherent thought was, _I’m screwed_.

…

The next morning he was the first one to wake up and leave the flat, what saved a lot of troubles. He made it through first class without any disturbances and accidentally met Yachi by the automat with coffee and before he knew, he had accepted her request to come with her to the oncoming match of Hinata’s team.

“Thank you, Tsukishima-kun, I am sure it will be fun!” she called with a smile and waved to him before disappearing into the crowd.

It really proved his mind still wasn’t in focus.

Going to the next class -- Hakato-sensei’s molecular biology, one of the most sedative ones in the course -- Tsukishima wondered what to do with the accident yesterday. There were two options: start looking for a new flat (a hard one) or act like nothing happened (easy one? well, easier than the first one). The latter could be troublesome to pull out with Kuroo, though.

He made it on time and dropped into the very back of lecture hall, knowing he won’t be making any notes, anyway. Professor was old and he didn’t really pay attention to his students, as long as no one interrupted him, so Tsukishima could be left unbothered. Or at least, that was what he thought.

Around ten minutes into the lecture, he heard as the door opened quietly, apparently allowing in some late student. He didn’t care about it until someone dropped into a seat right next to him, saying, “Hey.”

It got Tsukishima to straighten in his chair as he turned his head to look at Kuroo. “What are you doing here,” he demanded to know, trying to keep his voice as a whisper, but they apparently had already caught some students’ attention. “We are not in the same year. We are not even in the same _course_.”

Kuroo smirked at this, though his grin seemed not to be so sharp at the edges as usually. Maybe his back was still sore. Hopefully. “Yeah, so what?” He shrugged his shoulders. “We didn’t get a chance to talk about yesterday.”

“There is no need to talk about yesterday,” Tsukishima responded stiffly. “Things just happened. Can you go away?”

“Oh, is that so?” Kuroo crossed his ankles. “Man, you really have a low opinion of me. I don’t go around kissing people simply because I can or something.”

Tsukishima felt his cheeks flush with faint pink. Dammit. “So why then? I know you like to tease, but…”

“I do,” he agreed, “but most of the time, I kiss someone when I want.” He paused. “And I know they want to as well.”

There was a snarky answer at the top his tongue, but Tsukishima abruptly remembered that he kissed Kuroo back. Oh, fuck, he fucked up.

“I just wanted to wipe off that annoying all-known smirk from your face,” he muttered, what was true, in a great deal.

Kuroo started chuckling quietly. Unbelievable. Tsukishima wanted to smack him in the back of his head with the thick book, but it would bring even more noisy looks to them.

“Go out with me, then,” Kuroo offered casually when he managed to save himself from asphyxiating. “You will have a lot of occasions to wipe it off. With your mouth, preferably.”

And before Tsukishima could say something along the lines, _Hell no_ or _Who do you think you are_ , Kuroo put something between the pages of his book and disappeared from the hall. If Hakato noticed something, he didn’t make a bother to stop his lecture, about whatever it was he was talking about.

Frowning, Tsukishima turned some pages to look what was that piece of paper Kuroo left him. And he stared, absolutely surprised, when it turned out to be a coupon for strawberry shortcake from his favourite confectionery.

 _Ah. Damn him_.

**Author's Note:**

> flashforward to like six months later, yamaguchi comes back to tokyo and is like "what did you do with tsukki" (are these changes for better or worse, this is the question)
> 
> also i think we can all agree akaashi is extremely bitchy when he is sick or hangover y/y
> 
> (come to think of it, kenma, hinata, kageyama and lev are probably living together now, wow i sense a disaster coming lmao)


End file.
